Maha's musings

 "You are never too old to try something new." , said someone.  True. Life keeps giving us opportunities to explore new things. It is up to us to make the best or worst out of them.  Last Monday was the first working day at school after two months of Summer break. I was sitting half heartedly in the 23 °C air-conditioned  room amidst the hundreds of teachers. After the customary two and a half hour training session, the Principal revealed,  "The Teachers' day celebrations will be held on Friday. Each section of teachers will be given a state of India (North India in particular) and is expected to represent the state through art forms".  I was excited as it was my first time to be a part of such a PAN Indian celebration.  "And all the teachers should come in the traditional clothes of the state given.", he added to my annoyance.  Aww... that was totally out of blue! Within a couple of minutes, the lot was drawn (to choose states for different sections).

Visiting mom's place after a while is a sheer privilege. As I had been away for more than half a year, I received nothing short of a royal treatment— Sweets, snacks, drinks and beverages were served in regular intervals,  as if it would be a sin to leave even an inch of my tummy empty. My dad and mom were so much into the task that my ever-elongating tummy went on a strike and put up an invisible "houseful" board. With that mind numbing feed, I couldn't help but battle with drowsiness. To stay awake,  I was combing through my shelf for some new stuffs. There was a book that  caught my attention. It  was kept precariously on top of my neatly arranged files and folders.  When I pulled it out, a bookmark fell down to my feet. It read, "Just one more page" I felt as if the bookmark wanted me to read the book. (more like an infant, seeking its mother's attention.) I took it at hand and tucked it carefully back into the book.  When I

There are so many movies that question the vices of the society. Akshay Kumar starrer OMG-2 (2023), stands out unique from such movies with its perfect blend of screenplay, characterization and impactful dialogues.  Being a sequel to OMG-1(2012) that questions the religious practices, this movie focuses on yet another, often tabooed area - Sex education. Parents even shudder at the very thought of discussing   sex and related concepts in front of their tweens and teens but they ignore the simple fact that the media and peer groups are flooded with the same. It is true that half knowledge is dangerous. With their partially gained knowledge from social media and other sources, the youngsters are misled even manipulated.  Kanti Sharan Mudgal (Pankaj Tripathi), an ardent devotee of Lord Shiva, is a man of austerity. He runs a shop in Mahakaal's temple. His simple and content life comes to a standstill when his son Vivek's video (of practising onanism in the school toilet) goes vira

  "Uhmmm.... Maha, be confident. You will ace it. Go on with the swag!", my mind gave me a pep talk.  "🎶🎶....Don't let them in, don't let them see.......🎶🎶" I started cheerfully. Singing is the best way to hide our nervousness! That did the magic. My song wasn't that good but it drew the attention of the students rapidly. They looked closely again; but with an awe, this time. That boosted my confidence enormously.  There I kick started with set of icebreaker questions that miraculously blended them in. Bindaas!!! it went on and on for forty minutes until I heard the bell— Ringggggggggggggggg........ my lecture came to a halt. So was the silence that had been prevailing all the while.  Only then did I notice that the couple of teachers who had been sitting there behind, snowballed into some half a dozen— including the supervisor of the section and all the members of the department. I was glad that their faces had been lit up with satisfaction when the

"He will take you to the middle boys block", said the admin eyeing me. So he did. We were passing through a carpeted hallway that led to a playground. Walking past that, I spotted a building named "Middle Boys". Since it was a class hour, there weren't any students found loitering. He walked further guiding me and I followed suit. The three storeyed block had been decorated vibrantly with bulletin boards, sporting the teachers and students participating in various events. As I entered the room with the board "Supervisor", I was invited by a man in black suit. He introduced me to the teacher, who was busy making deputations. She was the coordinator of the department (of English) for the middle boys section.  She enquired my name and if I had prepared for the demo. I said a confident "Yes!" with a formal smile on my face.  "Do you have any teaching aids or device to connect?", she asked me eyeing my duffle bag.  I thought the demo wo

January 12 - midday,   I got a call from one of those half a dozen schools to which we had forwarded my resume so frantically. My pleasure knew no bounds. It had just been a fortnight since I migrated to Abu Dhabi with my husband after six months of our marriage.  I had been advised by many of my friends, colleagues and well-wishers that it would be easy to get a teacher's job in gulf countries. With that array of motivation, my husband and I went to the nearby schools to drop my resume.  No school let us even inside the campus; rather they suggested us to send the resume through email. Some received the resume with due respect and placed them on the table in security cabin. That wiped my hope completely. "We are not gonna be hired any sooner!" , I said to myself and left home.  But this call came totally out of the blue. I was the least prepared for that. When I got the call that greeted me, "Good morning! Abu Dhabi Indian School...", I started to quiver. When

Gone are the days where children stayed with parents and visited their grandparents on vacations. In this era of rapid economic changes, parents have to eek out every ounce of their time and effort to earn their breads and to give their children a decent upbringing and a secured future. In this pointless rat race, they fall short in spending time with their little ones.  To keep their children safe and engaged during their working hours, they need someone reliable and capable .There come the grandparents. Despite their frailty they embrace the opportunity to carry out their "Parenthood-2.O" undauntedly, expecting nothing in return.  In due course of time, these grandchildren become both their strength and weakness. The void they feel in their old age is cemented, they gain a new reason to live, to wake-up everyday, to hustle, to fight the odds. The children too, like newly planted saplings, start to flourish. But, can these saplings withstand when the parents who

Dunki (2023) London - City of dreams or City of Nightmare? Grass is always greener on the other side. People migrating to foreign countries for want of better life is not a new scenario but there is an ugly side too. There are numerous underprivileged, uneducated people who attempt to reach the target country illegally, risking their lives.  Rajkumar Hirani's SRK starrer "Dunki" has attempted its best to portray the plights of those people. Technically, "Dunki is an illegal trip a lot of people take to get out of their country across borders over the world. It is called the donkey travel", SRK had said in one of the interviews before the movie hit the screen.  The movie begins with a dramatic scene where Mannu (Taapsee Pannu), an old lady under medication  escapes from a hospital in London, to return to India as soon as possible. She also requests Hardy Singh (SRK) an old man from her village Laltu in Punjab to help her. When he accepts, she and her

First times are always special. First word uttered, the first step taken, the first day of school, ..... and so on.  In this line now joins my first ever flight!!!🎉🦴🥳🥳 Dec10,2023 India to Abu Dhabi IST to GST Flying across the time zones...✨✨✨ How whimsical it sounds... Thanks to the movies and soaps, I had visualised a flight to be spacious and spotless, peppered with posh elegant people who hardly open their mouths. But when I entered the flight it was an expectation Vs. reality sort of scenario. I entered through a congested entrance, treading on the passenger boarding bridge, with people almost pushing me from behind. I couldn't help but wondered if it was how a flight would look. It seemed like a colossal shuttle which could accommodate as many people as a double decker bus could do.  I was puzzled and asked if the movies had just been falsely portraying flights to be extravagantly sophisticated. "Lately all the flights are trying to cut down on the sophis

"What would you do if your father was GAY?"  Could you even digest that? How weird would it be for you to react or respond? That is exactly what happens to Shivam, a teenager in the movie "Dear Dad" . His father Nitin, in his late 30s finds it difficult to stick to the family, hiding his real sexual orientation. He even wants to part his ways with his wife but finds it difficult to convey that to his son. He drives his son back to the hostel so that he can have some we-time to discuss and sort out the matter.  Things get worsen when Shivam overhears Nitin's confession to his grandpa. He feels infuriated, dumped, and devastated at the same time. Nitin being a calm and composed father lets his son vent out his emotions and bears with his tantrums and sulking.   The first half thus revolves around Nitin's confession and Shivam's reaction to that. After a leap of a few months, in the second half, Nitin's wife Nupur, be

"Yenna Yazhu... Innum 1 naal dhan. Apram 2 naal leave.... Jolly dhan!!!", a lady was shouting out as I was busy scrapping a coconut.  "Aama, aunty!!!", came a cheerful reply. It was quarter to four in the noon. The road was empty that their interaction was heard throughout the alleyway. Yazhu is a granddaughter of our front door neighbour who has just joined her KG, in a nursery school in our locality. When I peeped through our gateway, she was fiddling next to the main entrance of their house, still decked up in her school uniform. I could find her unicorn school bag and a water bottle that matched the bag. (Of course pink) The happiness I spotted on her face was still fresh. Every morning, these days, I hear her mom and grandma ranting and raving with hypertension, right from waking her up to feeding her breakfast and sending her off to school. She seems to be a soldier heading to the battlefield, unarmed—mostly dejected with her stooping shoulders.  But yay! In t

Once in a Toastmasters' meeting, I was asked this question... Where do u want to find yourself in five years from now? The question was so profound that it showed who I actually was and what my dreams and aspirations were.  The answer came out of my mouth more as a reflex..... Disclaimer: Might seem to be a series of unrealistic American dreams. But never mind... After all dreaming is free!!!😁 I of course want to find myself in a place, far away from where I am now. Not physically..... but intellectually, emotionally and economically.  The past ME, that's before five years from now could have been proud of the 'ME', I'm now.  But I, I am passionately curious about seeing 'HER'— the 'ME' who will have evolved into a far better version of mine in five years from now. She won't be just a girl who knows things and keeps it with her but the one who takes steps further to experiment with them and shares them with multitude. She will be the most sought

When you are leaving your mom's place for your in-laws' house..., It's a myth that you miss only your parents and siblings... it's not how it works. You miss your entire being— the funkier version of yourself. You miss your close knit relatives, uncles, aunts and cousins who see the real you and keep you best company, by being your chattering comrades!  You miss your Nextdoor neighbour uncle who always smiles gleefully at you as he used to, when you were a kid.  You miss those random school mates or college mates, you bump into while going out for a casual walk.  You miss your parents' friends and acquaintances who treat you more like their own kid and shower you with love and edibles 😁.  You miss that scavenger aunty who always smiles at you soothingly in the morning and asks your whereabouts.  You miss that snacks vendors and icecream vendors to whom you always seem to be a kid no matter how big you grow. You miss that one tailor anna who swathes you with his per

The unlit paths have changed into luminously lit streets... The unpaved trails have turned into paved streets... The vagabond vendors are now proud owners of big business outlets... But one thing that has never changed is, this man and the peculiar ways he chooses to shower his love on me.  I still vividly remember the eight year old me, throwing tantrums for a pillion ride, whenever he would kickstart his bike. To my nagging, never would he allow me to and would  beat me if I insisted.  Little did I know that the hot tempered  disciplinarian would grow to become an even tempered father.  From those murky childhood days to these charming adolescent days, his way of loving me is matchless. When all the other fathers bought their children, expensive gifts, he would not. When  they took their children on vacation, all he could afford  was a sleepover at my granny's place. When they spent all their weekends laughing and dancing, our days would be grim and eventful. Our Diwalis have nev

Have you ever cribbed in front of mirror frustrated, trying to thrust yourself into that favourite kurti which you have successfully outgrown?  Have you ever felt embarrassed to be a friend of girls who have bucket full of love stories where all your talks are rejected as an uninteresting bucket list? In the era of rapid changes, where women are spotted everywhere right from steering trucks to launching rockets, it is paradoxical to spot women who are being body shamed, looked down upon or undervalued especially under the pretext of finding grooms. It is heartwrenching to see parents who preach their daughters to have high self esteem and self respect fall headlong into the whirl of big fat Indian wedding and forget everything.  The book "Encounters of a Fat Bride" deals with the life of Madhurima Pandey who is fed up with her family members' back to back attempts to get her married. Chances of Madhu, getting married seems slim because she is not.

"I buy her expensive gifts and shower her with things she loves. But she seems unsatisfied always." "I make bed, I take the trash out, I take my children to school even amidst my smothering routine..but she does not acknowledge at all.. My efforts clearly have no value.." I do this, I do that but still I can't keep our bond intact. There are brawls, disagreements and arguments. We can't make it. What is the secret behind all those successful couples who lead their HAPPILY EVER AFTERs with ease? This is the billion dollar question that resonates in most of our minds. But, Gary Chapman's "The Five Love Languages " proves that there is nothing called "happily ever after ". He provides some key insights on the reality behind love and life and how to tackle it with some real life instances.  It is easy to fall in love but staying in love needs constant efforts and unwavering commitment. No matter how much we feel loved in the

Letter to mom and dad... Dear mom , your memories haunt me. You come to my mind during the most unexpected of times.when I wake up in the morning, my eyes long to see you mopping around the house doing chores. When I find my bathing soap getting thin, my tongue automatically shouts out "Maa, soap...." Not a single hour elapses without your memory. Whenever you are around, I remain me. Your presence is not appreciated but your absence is felt. I no longer remember your strict disciplinarian demeanor; all I remember is your gentle embracing smile and that lovely pat on my back whenever I accomplish something, no matter how trivial it be, you never fail to appreciate me. Your words of encouragement fuel my confidence and let me challenge anything or anyone. Never have my eyes seen you lazing around doing nothing.  Whom will you advise on thousand random things ranging from waking up early in the morning to goggling before going to bed? Who will carry water in vessels downstairs

This morning I was making a call to one of my friends for the usual chattering. To my surprise I was greeted with an automated voice as a caller tune. It was a part of “Har Ghar Triranga”, a campaign to celebrate the 77 th Independence day. It suggested every Indian to take a selfie with the triranga (Tricolour flag) and post it on the website concerned to participate in Azadi ka Amrit Mahotsav, ( a government-initiated programme celebrating the 75th or diamond jubilee year of Indian Independence Day. It emphasises future growth while highlighting India's accomplishments during the previous 75 years. The initiative marks goals to be achieved by 2047 when India will complete 100 years of independence . ) The voice note made me annoyingly self-reflexive. It all sounded whimsical and made no sense. I am not an armchair critic who finds faults with ruling party. Being a bystander, I couldn’t connect the dots as to why such futile steps to flaunt? The voice also led me to some existe

I live in an emotional no man's land!!! Outwardly, it seems everybody owns me. Parents say that I'm their daughter and I was born and brought up there at their place. In-laws say that I'm all theirs now and they are my second parents. My life is there and my progeny will flourish there at their place. They even assure that I have every right to ask anything I want.  I was so happy thinking that I got two parents to love me and own me. Yesterday I was at my mom's place. When I was about to lift a pitcher full of water, my mom said, "Be careful. If you trip down, we have to answer your in-laws."  Today, back in my in-laws' house, this morning I was heating a pot full of water. When I was about to transfer it to a bucket, I heard my dad-in-law saying, "let it be. We shall do that for you. If it spills, we have to answer your parents."  It was epiphanic! I realised a bitter truth— let it be my parents or in-laws, they care for me but don't own me